Flambez La Fleur
by LiBeTh
Summary: Draco/Hermione. Hermione Granger is a Pop/Rock star going by the name 'Flambez La'fleur'; a mysterious past behind her. Draco Malfoy is a Rock star going by the name 'Bad Faith'. Both worlds clash in a tour together, or have they before? (Chap. 4 (5) Up!)
1. Prologue

****

A/N: I'm sure some of you remember my spiffy story 'Flambez La Fleur'? Reposted, renamed, and revised… it starts again!

*

Prologue

"_Oh hooh._"

The sounds rang out as the one girl everyone was waiting for stepped into the light on the stage. Possibly the wealthiest person in the world, currently, there she stood, starting her hit single, "Damned". Chart topping, everyone knew of the song. Wizards, muggles -- it didn't matter.

"_Boy you reminded me of putting these things into words  
And save them, for a rainy day  
Your shameful heart and your sinful soul  
Oh, I'm amazed by you and all that you are_"

The audience cheered and clapped their hands along to the rocky beat of the music, some even singing along with her. And she, she just danced along the stage, singing her song, shaking hands here and there with the lucky people in front. The noise was so loud though, anyone for miles would have surely heard her voice of wonders.

"_Your devious ways  
You do the work of the dark forces in this world  
And you're evil, oh yes you are  
Damned, you're one man I just can't stand you're  
Damned, you built your castle on the sand; you're  
Damned, How could I ever want you for my man  
I lost you now, so why do I care?_"

A shady figure stood in the crowd, not doing anything the crazy fans around him were, just standing. Watching the girl's every move, looking at her every feature. Something was so familiar about her. But, no, that girl was killed years ago, when Voldemort still reigned and things were not as fun and free as now. Times such as this never happened back then; they were the cause of so much attention, which would change quick as light to murder scenes. Yet, it had to be her...

"_You really knew right from the start  
How to work your way into my heart  
And then you pulled the trigger shot me around the weakest  
You're a disgrace to the human race with your pretty face_"

She rounded to the figure's part of the circular audience, continuing on with her Rockish-Pop song everyone loved. Their eyes locked for the smallest second, but they immediately looked away, knowing, just knowing, who the other was for sure. But not wanting to. Oh no, never wanting to. Their past was pushed behind them, to the ground, and only the present and future could remain standing. Yet, she seemed to have stopped singing for that moment, eyes widened in shock. But shock only lasts long enough to be pushed away, and that she did. And the crowd just continued to cheer, clap, and sing along with the beauty on the stage.

"_Your devious ways  
You do the work of the dark forces in this world  
And you're evil, oh yes you are_

Damned, you're one man I just can't stand you're  
Damned, you built your castle on the sand; you're  
Damned, How could I ever want you for my man  
I lost you now, so why do I care?

Your devious ways  
You do the work of the dark forces in the world  
And you're evil, oh yes you are

Damned, you're one man I just can't stand you're  
Damned, you built your castle on the sand; you're  
Damned, How could I ever want you for my man  
I lost you now, so why do I care?"

The song slowly neared the end, and the bumpy background music began to slowly fade. The stage beauty danced gracefully across the stage until she made her way back to the figure's, the man's, area. She stared right into his steely-blue eyes, and he did the same whilst her golden-brown eyes. The music came to a point where one could barely here it, but with the large sound system with it's magically modified parts, it was still loud. The time for the last verse of the song came and, eyes still locked with the man's, the girl said them as though directed towards him.

"_Damned. so why do I care?_"

The audience cheered, wailed, and sent cat-calls to the girl as they slowly filed out of the arena. The concert was over, and, sweating and exhausted, the girl herself exited to the back stage. She was immediately surrounded by awaiting reporters, fans, and security guards (who were there to help her get through the mob, obviously).

Led through the raving group, she shot her eyes around the hall searching for someone. For him. She knew he'd be there, somewhere. And, oh, was she right. Her last glance caught sight of the man from before, and she ran straight to him, leaving behind two very confused security guards.

And right when she reached him, she shot her hand up and slapped him square across the face with all the strength she could muster (which would have been a lot, if she had not just been dancing and singing around a large stage for the past three hours). A large red mark was left on his right cheek, clashing very badly with his pale skin.

"You God damned idiot!" She shouted at him. Many on-looking stared, others (such as the reporters and desperate fans) snapped pictures every chance they could get. Oh, was this going to be on the news, everywhere, in both worlds. "You tried to kill me, Malfoy! After everything!" She slapped him once more, though on the opposing cheek, a lot harder then before, having gained strength in the few moments.

"So you remember, eh, Granger?" Draco drawled back, his hand massaging the left side of his face (since it did hurt more), smirk plastered across his features even still. "Or, wait, what was your name now? 'Flambez La'fleur'? Seems like something you would do, being _DEAD_ and all. But, truly, you would have forgotten about that?" Many people in the growing crowd gasped as he, in some way, admitted to trying to kill the girl.

The girl...yes, her. The girl once called Hermione Granger. The girl proclaimed dead for five years, ever since her graduation of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione Granger was really Flambez La'fleur, the thought to be graduate from Beauxbatons, who was currently the most popular musical artist in the world.

Isn't the morning post going to be just _wonderful_?


	2. Chapter I

****

A/N: Reposted, Chapter I.

*

****

Chapter One

__

The Daily Prophet: July 10th, 2003

****

Article Title: Huge Hit

Music sensation Flambez La'fleur (stage name: Rocking Death Girl) made a huge hit last night. Her concert in Belfast, Ireland attracted over 500,000 wizards, witches, and muggles alike. Radio stations broadcasting her concert live had chart-topping ratings over the night, gaining even more listeners. It's no real doubt that this mysterious girl is a huge hit. With her beautiful voice and drop-dead gorgeous looks, any boy would fall for the musical queen and girls just simply stay awe-faced at her every move.

But, strange news has come to our attention, of which happened right after her show. It seems as though Draco Malfoy, rich pureblood and current heir to the Malfoy fortune, thinks that Flambez is Hermione Granger, the muggle-born witch proclaimed dead exactly five years ago. __

A Daily Prophet reporter was able to catch snippets of the conversation from the two, which, filled in all its loathing glory, was displayed in front of any on-lookers back stage. A short recap was made, in which you can read on page 4, where the article will continue.

****

The Daily Prophet: Page 4  
**Article Title**: What's This?

..."You god ----ed idiot!" Flambez had shouted at the almost-expecting Draco. "You tried to kill me, Malfoy! After everything!" Flambez had slapped Draco then, seemed in a fit of rage. But, 'he tried to kill her'? No one here seems to understand this statement, but it's led many to believe that Flambez is, in fact, Hermione Granger. The theory seems to be confirmed by Draco, both of them

"So you remember, eh, Granger?" Mr. Malfoy had questioned back, though clearly more of a statement. But, let's look over this. 'Granger'. Hermione Granger. The theory is slowly becoming a puzzle pieced together. "Or, wait, what was your name now? 'Rocking Death Girl'? Seems suitable enough, considering past circumstances. But, truly, you would have forgotten about that?" But, here, this is confusing. Rocking Death Girl, the stage name of Flambez La'fleur. Yet, if thought about, a lot, can make a rather bit of sense.

Further information, we're dearly sorry about, can not be found. After much digging through many files, still no other evidence remains. If one of the reporters is to come across such information, we will alert everyone with the news. Until then. 

*

Hermione sighed, putting down The Daily Prophet. Just her luck it was, everyone now, in a way, knowing of her real identity. The one away from Flambez La'fleur. The one she had tried to escape, exactly six years ago. Oh, how wonderful, her mind stated sarcastically. The anniversary of my death.

Getting up from her chair at the kitchen table, downing the rest of her coffee in a quick gulp and discarding the goblet, she threw the newspaper into the garbage can, which, in an instant, cleared entirely (it was magic). 

Walking out of the kitchen, closing the door quite loudly in a small fit of rage, she entered her vast living room. Plopping down on the large, cloud-like plush sofa, she sighed, once more though quite loudly. Relaxing a bit, she scrambled her hand around the sofa-side table, in search for the remote to her television. The search was successful and she brought the remote in front of her, flicking the large television on. Flipping through the channels lazily, she caught a glance of a certain Flambez La'fleur's music video of her song 'Hunter'. Stopping herself from changing the channel, she watched her fake-realitied self dance and sing around the setting, though without the spark and enthusiasm many other famous actors/actresses and singers would normally have all around them. It was more like silent mourning and dreading, though only she seemed to spot it.

As the song came to its close, another music video flashes across the television, and Hermione saw the flash of platinum blonde hair that she would have never wanted to see in her life again. But the thought quickly escaped her mind as, another muggle invention that she, being of muggle origin, knew of, began its strange ringing sound, filling the large living room with it's loud noise. Scrambling her hands around the small table aside the sofa once more, she picked up the receiver and pressed it to her ear.

"Flambez La'fleur speaking," she said, her voice sounding almost automatic. "How may I help you?"

"Flame, really now," her American friend, and show organizer (who happened to be a witch, and a muggle-born, mind you), Daisie, answered. "You sound more like a pizza delivery service than a music sensation."

"If you care so much," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

"Anyway," Daisie said, ignoring the mumbling that she happened to catch. "That article, ignore it. Probably that damned Rita Skeeter woman trying to get more gossip than she can swallow. Wouldn't be surprised if it was all a lie." Hermione gulped slightly at that comment, knowing fully well that everything was absolutely true, down to the very last letter.

"Yes, Daisie, I'm aware of that," Hermione added after a short moment of silence. "Now, I know that has nothing to do with the reason you're calling me. Do tell?"

"Oh, yes, that," Daisie said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well, I've arranged a pre-concert show for you down in muggle London. Don't fret, it's only one song: your choice. I believe they said the 'Digital Abyss' was the place. Surely you know of such?"

"Yes," Hermione added, nodding slightly to herself. "Yes, I do."

"Okay, good. You'll be performing there. As soon as you do a few autographs, and interview maybe, and meeting your partner for the tour-"

"What partner?" Hermione asked, half-annoyed and half-curious. Had she been told of such, she wouldn't have cared.

"Damn Reakelle... " Daisie mumbled, referring to their boss. "Did she not tell you? You'll be going on tour with Bad Faith. A really hot guy, might I say. Really swept the girls off their feet as soon as he hit the music industry. Right about the same time as¼ you."

"Can't say I've ever heard of him, really," Hermione piped on. "Just have to wait and meet the bugger at the show, then, neh?"

"The show?" Hermione heard loud giggling coming from the other end of the phone. "Flame, dear, you'll be sharing the tour bus with him the entire three months!"

"You've got to be kidding-" Hermione started to say, but was cut off by Daisie.

"Anyway, I've got to go," Daisie added hastily. "Make sure you get there at six o'clock tonight. You know where the place is. Got to go now, though. See you then!" She finished, and then hung up the phone quickly. 

Hermione sighed, placing the phone down herself. Flipping the television off with the remote, she lifted herself off the sofa, away from the relaxation, and proceeded to the spiraling, marble stairs that led to her bedroom to get ready for whatever coming for her that night.

Oh, what a surprise she had coming, too.


	3. Chapter II

****

A/N: Chapter II, reposted. Another short chapter.

*

Chapter Two

Daisie pranced around Hermione throughout the first twenty minutes of their arrival, filling her in on all kinds of information, and gossip (one of Daisie's best qualities). Nearly ten minutes later, though after Daisie had scurried away for a bit, she finally instructed Hermione on what to do.

"Okay, Flame, girl," Daisie said, running up to Hermione in a haste. "You've got two minutes before you go on stage. You said you'd be performing New, correct? Okay, good, then," she continued, not waiting for any answer. "After the quick performance, you do a quick autograph signing, a short interview, then we load up the bus. Just after you meet Bad Faith, though. He's here, yes, but won't be performing tonight. Anyway, hurry up. That's one minute and thirty seconds, now." Daisie finished her chatter and looked around, Hermione, though, had already left.

Spotting Hermione near the stage, Daisie ran up to her. "Ready, then?" Hermione nodded in response and Daisie ran up the stage steps and grabbed the microphone.

"Okay everyone!" Daisie called, and the frantic, and impatient, fans cheered, knowing what was coming. "We all seem ready tonight don't we? Anyway, give it up for Miss Flambez La'fleur, otherwise known as Rocking Death Girl, singing her latest single, New!"

Taking a deep breath in, Hermione slowly walked up the stage steps. Daisie noticed Hermione coming and left the stage. Bumpy music started in the background, and, Hermione, grabbing the microphone, began to sing.

"_Don't let it go away_

This feeling has got to stay

Don't let it go away

This feeling has got to stay

And I can't believe I've had this chance now

Don't let it go away"

Hermione's eyes scanned the crowd as she sung, and though not as large as at an arena (this was private accession), was still rather wound up.

"_New, you're so new_

You, you're new

And I never had this taste in the past

New, you're so new"

The dancing beat of the song started, and Hermione began dancing along to the song, remembering the steps her choreographer had instructed her. _Dancing's such a hassle_, her brain racked. _Don't know how I put up with it so much_. Ignoring her protests though, she scanned across the crowd and continued on.

"_My normal hesitation is gone_

And I really gravitate to your will

Are you here to fetch me out?

'Cause I've never had this taste in my mouth

You're not old

And you're not familiar

Recently discovered and I'm learning about you

New, you're so new

You, you're new

And you're consuming me violently

And your reverence shamelessly tempting me

Who sent this maniac?

'Cause I never had this taste in the past

You're different, you're different from the former

Like a fresh battery I'm energized by you

Don't let it go away

This feeling has got to stay

Don't let it go away

This feeling has got to stay

And I can't believe I've had this chance now

Don't let it go away"

Hermione stopped her dancing abruptly, though it was intended. Walking up to the long, stick-like microphone holder, she entwined her fingers around it near the top and leaned forward on it.

"_Why am I so curious?_

This territory is dangerous

I'll probably end up at the start

I'll be back in line with my broken heart

New, you're so new

You, you're new

And I never had this taste in the past"

Regaining her poster, she began to dance the crazy-like dance that seemed to move everywhere. _I'm really going to need a good rest after all of this_, her thoughts continued to complain once more. _It's tiring me out already. Thank goodness it's only one song. But if this tires me out, then…tomorrow?_

"_Don't let it go away_

This feeling has got to stay

Don't let it go away

This feeling has got to stay

And I can't believe I've had this chance now

Don't let it go away

And I can't believe it

Can't believe it

Can't believe it

Can't believe it

Don't let it go away, this feeling has got to stay

Don't let it go away"

About twenty seconds more of low music, and her murmuring 'new, you're so new' every five seconds, the song came to its end. The crowd burst into a loud applause, and Hermione made a quick bow before exiting the stage over to where Daisie was, only to be led to more fans at her 'quick' autograph signing. _Damn Daisie and her bad sense of time_, Hermione mused.

*

In reality, it took Hermione a good two hours to get through the autographs (she kept on forgetting that she was not Hermione Granger, but instead Flambez La'fleur; though she never made that mistake in the actual autographs), and another good hour to get through the 'short' interview. Hermione cursed Daisie mentally again, though she had a nice trick up her wand that might fit for later.

As though she had heard Hermione's thoughts herself, Daisie came running up to Hermione's side. _Speak of the devil_.

"Flame, Flame, Flame," Daisie said, as though she was a mother about to shame her daughter.

"Say my name one more time and I'll make sure you're in flames, Daisie," Hermione added, a bit harshly. _Not a bad idea, either_, her mind added; though she never said so aloud.

"Save me the pleasure," her friend commented. "Anyway, Bad Faith wishes to see you now. Does he get the honor to grace your presence?"

"By the way you said that, it sounds like I'll be gracing his presence," Hermione snorted. "What did you do? Go and start a world famous business, Daisie's Delivery Service, and not tell me?"

"Very funny now, Flame," Daisie retorted, not at all amused. "Anyway, you really should go see him. No point waiting 'til you get on the bus…"

"Which only happens to be a few minutes from now," Hermione added quickly.

"_Anyway_," Daisie continued, annoyed. "If you're going to see him, just go down that hall…" she pointed down some corridor Hermione never noticed (or took notice of). "…It's the second door to the right. Knock three times sharp, or he won't let you in." Daisie then leaned in for to whisper, "The guys a wizard, by the way, Flambez. So, if you don't knock exactly, then the door stays locked hard. Complicated spell, too. Can't be broken by _Alohamora_…"

"Oh, what's the use," Hermione sighed, defeated. "You'll keep bugging me 'til I do go see him. Might as well do so now. See you in a minute, then, Daiz."

*

The hallway was darker than one would think, and Hermione was under the impression he, Bad Faith, had made this so himself. Sighing, Hermione reached her destination, the second door to the right and lifted her hand slowly.

__

Rapt, rapt, rapt.

Doing as Daisie said, as not to create suspicion to man, she knocked three times sharply. Not a second later, she heard a soft click from the doorknob, and then a low chuckle. "Come in… _Flambez_," a voice inside answered her knocking.

Twisting her hand around the brass doorknob, Hermione slowly moved it left, opening the door. She poked her small head inside the door, her one eye (the other was covered with hair, her chosen hairstyle like that) scanning the room. Blowing air from her mouth, to somehow move the straight reddish-brown hair from her now no-eyed view, the hair moved aside. "Er... _Bonjour, Monsieur Bad Faith_," her voice sounded, echoing across the walls of the quiet room.

The hunched figure sitting on the small bed, back facing her, slowly turned around and looked her straight in the eyes. "Hello, _Hermione_."

This caused Hermione to gasp. Platinum blonde hair, pale skin, black wizards robes. _Not him_, Hermione's mind cried. _Anyone…anyone but him_.

"Dra…Draco Malfoy," she gasped out, and then fainted into a screen of black nothingness.


	4. Chapter III

****

A/N: Chapter III, reposted. Another short chapter. Last I have already written. Chapter IV will be here soon enough, I promise! Give me a week.

*

****

Chapter Three

__

"Is she…to be…Will she really…" Low, yet loud enough for one of less that five feet away could hear, whispers filled Hermione's black nothingness of a dream. Like a dream without its picture, a memory with its vision.

__

"We don't…It is clearly…Quite a fall…Loss of blood…head…"

"You're joking…How…perform…Will she ever…"

"I don't know what you're worried about, Miss Anderson," a much louder, and deeper, voice sounded. _"It's not like she could perform much before. No spark in her eyes; no strength to dance during a long period of time. Her voice, however, is what we should be afraid she'll lose."_

Hermione knew right away, without even having to see, that that voice was no other's than Draco Malfoy's. Not even the smallest of _'Bad Faith' _fan girls could mistake it; not even the last batch of first years before Hermione, Draco, Harry, and all the other seventh years had graduated could mistake it; not even Hermione.

And how Hermione ached to escape her black nothingness and find out exactly what Draco meant by that, but as soon as she tried a sudden burst of pain surged through her head. She must have winced in the world Draco, Daisie, and, most likely, the doctor could see because she could somehow feel the small crowd of three people surrounding her unconscious, seen form.

"Miss La'fleur," the doctor began. "Can you hear me?" Hermione could not seem to answer. Though she could indeed hear him, she could not bring herself to deal with the pain.

"Doctor," Daisie's out-of-place American accent started. "Look at her eyes. Are the supposed to be so… white?"

"I'm most certain, Miss Anderson, that they are meant to be like that," Draco stated. "She's probably trying to fight her unconscious form into conscious."

Hermione could almost hear the light spark in the doctor's head. "Miss La'fleur, if you can hear me, try to bring your unconscious form forward a bit," he suggested.

Against the agonizing protests, Hermione obeyed the doctor. She brought the strange form she had taken in the unconscious world (looking much like her conscious form, only it looked like a young Hermione Granger, seventeen years old and in her Hogwarts graduation robes) closer toward the direction of the voices.

"_Go back_," cried a voice in her head. "_It's safe; no stage, no spotlight, no danger. Live forever in your safe world!_"

"_Don't listen!_" another cried out. "_You have a life to finish; no one wants to have a dead superstar! And that movie with Malfoy, the Weird sisters, and the Flower Beds! Do not you wish to fulfill your dreams?_"

Hermione slowly drowned out the two voices as they mentally fought to drive her crazy. _Go back to safety_, she mused. _Go forward to life. Life where I can find unanswered question's true answers. Life…_

Hermione found herself leading her form forward; forward until she suddenly got a blurry vision of Daisie, Draco, and a man she didn't recognize. The doctor, she decided.

"Tough decision, Miss La'fleur?" the doctor asked. Hermione nodded in response, then looked to the small white name-tag on the doctor's suit. '_T. Boot_'

"Terry Boot?" Hermione exclaimed. "The Ravenclaw in my year?" Doctor Boot raised an eyebrow at Hermione, no clue what she was implying.

"Yes, I am Terry Boot," Doc-…Terry started. "But I'm afraid I never went to Beauxbatons, Miss La'fleur." He then turned to Daisie and Draco. "Miss Anderson, go get the nurse. Draco, get the silver-coloured Memory restoring potion. I'm afraid she's having side affects." Daisie left immediately, while Draco began to search through open potion cabinet. 

"Side affects!" Hermione said, raising her voice. "There's nothing wrong with me! You can't make me take that foul-tasting potion, either! I'll sue both of you if you even try!"

"Miss La'fleur," Terry began, irregularly calm. _Things like this must happen every day_, Hermione mused, then caught herself. _Things like this? There's nothing wrong with me!_

"I won't have it!" Hermione yelled, being very reluctant. With that, she swung her hospital-uniformed body over the small bed and stood on her feet. She placed a hand on the tiny bedside table for a moment before gaining her posture and walking not so fast-like out of the room…

… Only to be overcome by a waft of lightheadedness. Her vision blurred and began a dizzy twist of swaying from side to side. Hermione put a hand to her forehead, only to find it wrapped in a muggle bandage. _Where _did_ they take me? Surely not St. Mungo's, they don't use muggle healers and are way to far from the Digital Abyss. Maybe a muggle hospital with certain doctors to take care of witches and wizards?_

Finding that to be a good answer, Hermione stopped her thoughts. Taking the hand from her bandaged forehead, her eyes widened as she found her delicate fingers stained in fresh blood.

"Bloody hell," she said with all the voice she could muster. She looked up to where she was going again, only to find it was still a visual mess. "I'm going to get nowhere."

"Got that right," a sweet, yet still hinted in cold sarcasm, voice stated behind her. "Need help, Hermione?" the semi-stranger asked. But Hermione knew right away at the mention of her hidden name that it was none other than Draco Malfoy behind her. 

Hermione decided to ignore Draco; however much she needed the help. She pushed a hand against the white-bricked wall to steady herself further and continued walking towards the exit in silence, annoyed by the factor that the closer she tried to get, the farther the doors seemed to go.

"Granger," Draco continued on. "If I wanted you dead I would have done so myself. Now let me help you before you do end up dying."

"Stop calling me that," Hermione ordered, her voice barely above a whisper. "And if I remember correctly, you've already tried."

"How do you know I meant to…Flambez?" Draco asked after a slight moment of silence.

Hermione, however, gave no answer and continued walking toward the exit. She hadn't even made it to three more steps before she suddenly had much of her weight supported by some else, her arm moved over their shoulder. _Malfoy never gives up_, Hermione thought. _Never gives up on anything._

"Malfoy, I said I didn't need help," Hermione hissed.

"As I recall, Flambez, you never said you didn't need help," Draco stated simply. "Judging, though, by the slight sway in you walking and your former support on the wall, you vision happens to be quite blurred and dizzy and you're feeling lightheaded, probably wondering how long you'll last before you faint."

"How do you…?" Hermione whispered, a sudden shock that Draco was either very observant or he actually knew something.

"I took Magical Medical Health School for a year," he began. "Before taking Performing Arts at a Muggle school for three years."

Hermione gave a slight nod, noting to ask further when she felt more…composed.

Much to her astonishment, though, Hermione found herself standing in front of the glass exit doors of the strange, almost confused idenitied, hospital she had been brought to. Somewhere in their small talk Hermione must have lost her hardheaded reluctance and instead leaned into Draco's helping support to be led to the door.

"The bus is outside," Draco said after a moment of silence. "Along with," he stopped momentarily to look at a small muggle beeper, nodding. "Along with police, police wards, and, well, fans. Can you handle that?"

Hermione once again gave a small nod as Draco pushed the door open with his foot. Almost instantly, a large crowd of fans behind two separated sides blocked by police wards burst into frantic shouting, calling and jumping.

Yet, just as instantly, it stopped. And they all just stared at the odd duo of people walking out of the doors. But then again, you would be just as surprised no matter if you read the morning paper or not. It wasn't every day you saw the worlds most popular pop sensation walk out of a hospital, bandaged and weak, leaning against the world's fastest rising punk band's vocal. Not at all.


	5. Chapter IV

****

A/N: Be Happy! It's Chapter IV!

****

PS: In the last chapter, a movie was mentioned in Hermione's unconscious thoughts. Daisie had told her of the movie earlier –thought I never mentioned it, - at the Digital Abyss. So, just to clear that up for those who were thinking, "Huh?" The movie, however, will not be part of this story. I _may_ make a "sequel" in which it tells of the movies events. But, I'm not sure yet. 

****

PPS: Also, I must say, I'm terribly sorry for all the grammatical and spelling mistakes here and there in my chapters. I use Microsoft Word, and if it thinks that the word looks fine, then it skips it; and I usually have very little time to do a once-over, which sometimes even my eyes cannot pick the mistakes up.

*

****

Chapter IV

Hermione awoke almost four hours later in the uncomfortable-ness of an unfamiliar bed. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and looked around the darkened room.

It turns out; she was in a smallish room decorated in what looked like soft purples and greys. A strange, long, gleaming pole shot down from the ceiling and then straight through a large, circular hole in the floor; reminding Hermione of a Muggle Fire Department almost.

The bed she was laying in appeared to have the same color scheme as everything else; a four-poster with grey draperies, purple, silk bed sheets complete with matching, lacy-silk pillows.

She turned her gaze to the furniture and such in the room. Things such as a two-seat sofa, a mahogany-rimmed glass coffee table, a small television (covered with a fluffy grey décor), and a cordless telephone (which happened to have the same décor as the telie, from what she could see). Near a dark corner, Hermione could just make see the outline of what looked like a guitar; her's, most likely.

There were also two mahogany doors on the right side of the room (the left was occupied by dark-tinted, grey-draped windows). One, to the left, had a gold star placed on it; the other simply read _Bathroom_ in some swirly hand.

Standing up, though stumbling a bit from just waking up, Hermione walked over the window, pushing away the draperies and raising the bottom, thus opening it, she watched as figures moved past her. Not many, as the bus had likely left London an hour or so before she awoke, currently traveling through some small town on its outskirts. She looked over at an alarm clock she had noticed was atop the TV when getting up, it read: 1:45 AM.

She raised her gaze up to the sky and stared at it for minutes as millions of different stars whizzed by. As the small town was quite dark, the only light coming -- quite dimly -- from houses and small stores (there were no streetlights in the town), she could see the sky rather clearly. Much unlike London, as all you could ever see was a semi-dark sky and the moon, even at this _ungodly _hour.

The sudden noise of one object connecting -- no less, smashing -- into another made her jump a few inches, awoken from the strange daze. Turning to the origin of the noise, she was met by Draco Malfoy, somehow not taken to looking slightly disarranged from sleep. Or did he never go to sleep that night?

"You should be asleep, Hermione," Draco said, once Hermione's attention was on him. He slowly walked over to stand beside her at the window, looking out of it as well. He sighed, turning around and leaning against the sill. "Why are you not?"

Hermione shook her head, moving so she, too, was leaning against the small sill. "I don't know, really. My head hurt, I guess." One of her hands reached up, lightly touching the wound on her head, covered in bandages. The fingers of her other hand snapped, and the lights of her room switched on.

Her fingers were coating in blood, even from such a small touch. She sighed, turning to Draco. "How bad was my fall?" She asked him.

"It was so bad, it would have made Voldemort squeal with delight of the fact that another Muggleborn was gone," He said, jokingly. There was a truth behind his words, though. Draco, being far away from Hermione at the moment of her fall, had not been able to catch her. She had hit the stone floor with a rather sickening _crack_.

"That bad, eh?" She frowned, looking over to the bed she had been laying on. There was a large amount of time she couldn't recall. It was about the time when they had entered the bus earlier, Draco and she. It was almost like everything after that wasn't there. "Draco, what happened after we got on the bus?"

"You just sort of… collapsed into my arms, then," He answered. "Right about the time we reached the gathering room." One of his arms out-stretched, pointing towards the gleaming pole in her room, which possibly led down to the room mentioned.

"Out of the love of my heart…" He was interrupted when Hermione let out a snicker. "… I may suggest you use the stairs while you've got that wound on your head. They're in my room." His head cocked over to the door with a golden star on it; he had come out of it minutes before.

Hermione shrugged. "You're the one who took Medical School, Doc." Her eyes averted over to the alarm clock, which now read: 1:56 AM. "Anyway, I think I need to try and get some sleep."

"Would you like me to stay?" He asked. He quickly added, "Just in case, you know, you wake in pain."

She stared at him for a moment as if he'd gone mad and had started singing 'Yankee Doodle'. She nodded, however. "That… might help," She said, shrugging. "If you're willing, please do." 

"It's fine with me," Draco replied, slowly walking to the bed. "Just, you get the blood-covered pillow. Not exactly something I'd like to sleep on, Hermione."

"Indeed it wouldn't be," She said, finally noticing that her pillow was coated in the blood from her wound. Mumbling a quick cleaning charm, her wand having been up her sleeve, she watched as the pillow was cleared of it's blood.

She walked over to the bed then, opposite the side Draco was on, and nodded. "In us brave soldiers go."

And with that, the two young stars climbed into the bed, curling up beside each other, the male's arm draped over the female's body, drifting slowly off to sleep. They never quite knew what pushed them to sleep in the same bed (A/N: Nothing suggestive. Never in this story.), but they two former enemies did that night, finding their sleep almost as peaceful as ever.

*

"_It's the way_

That he makes you feel.

It's the way

That he kisses you.

It's the way

That he makes you fall in love."

Draco and Hermione had long since woken up, quite surprised at the fact they were in the same bed, as though they couldn't remember last nights events. Turns out, neither of the two could recall last nights events – save a few flashes and words.

Anyway, they were currently in a private studio, practicing for tonight's up-coming concert. The first stop in their tour together. Doing the songs by turns, Draco was singing his opening song - hit single, too -- 'Pretty Girl (The Way)'.

Band* playing behind him to the bumpy rock background music; Draco up front singing to it. The song that got him and the band rather famous; the first song they released, as well.

Their instructor -- who was helping them organize which songs go when and pointing out flaws in their singing -- had been staring at Draco rather rudely, scowling.

"_She's beautiful as usual with bruises on her ego and_

Her killer instinct tells her to beware of evil men

And that's what you get for falling again

You can never get 'em out of your head

And that's what you get for falling again

You can never get 'em out of…"

"Damn it!" Draco suddenly exclaimed. He pointed the microphone towards the instructor, glaring at it. The band behind Draco stopped playing, giving each other curious glances and shrugs. "You! Must you look at my like I'm some kind of damned animal everyone must consider a disgrace!"

He turned to Hermione, eyes softening slight, yet still in his fit of rage. "Who hired this… this bastard?" He yelled, scaring Hermione slightly.

"Reakelle, I believe," She said, nodding. She shrugged then. "Reakelle, she doesn't care who she hires, as long as they're cheap."

Draco nodded, face softening as he lost his anger towards the man. "You," He said, regarding the man again. "Raise your prices, don't take advantage of people who like cheap things, and learn how to be better. You're quite aggravating." He turned to Hermione then, smiling. "And, now, I will leave you men, as I wish to take a fair lady out in town before our big concert tonight."

He slowly walked over to Hermione, holding his hand out to her. After a moment of thinking, she took it in her own small hand, smiling back at Draco. The two turned, waving at the men they were leaving behind with their free hands, then promptly running out of the studio, out into the open streets of Birmingham. 

*

Draco and Hermione had ended up eating lunch at some small restaurant. Which, fortunately, was free of teens or anyone who seemed to care who they were. It was a rather good change; even it is was only for an hour that they sat there, talking to each other about various things.

However, when they went to buy some outfits for the upcoming shows on the tour, they were immediately surrounded by fans wanting autographs and various things. After requesting such, the store manager swoo-ed everyone except the two out. Thus, they could buy and look at whatever they wanted without the knowledge that fifty or so people were staring, jumping, and screaming (it was muffled, the doors were closed). The store bags full of clothes were placed in their rooms, on the bus.

Draco and Hermione found themselves in Diagon Alley, as a wizarding pub –much like the Leaky Cauldron- at the entrance of Wizarding Birmingham had a fireplace, in which they floo-ed off to the Alley.

That was rather fun for the two. Hermione, leaving her Flambez aura for about an hour, had a wonderful time buying ten or so books. Crookshanks having died years before, she also found herself buying a cat that looked very much like her old one. 'Kitty' seemed a suitable name, as both Draco and Hermione seemed to have left their minds back in the studio.

Draco had slipped off at some point, leaving Hermione alone to walk around the Alley herself for awhile. It proved… bad, almost. Not even ten minutes after he had left, she found herself bumping into someone. Looking up, there was someone else beside the person she had bumped into, both of whom were male. The worst thing was the two males were none other than her best friends at Hogwarts, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

Hermione choked, staring at them in shock. It had nothing to do with the surroundings, as it was not a surprise to see two wizards in Diagon Alley. It was just… that they were there. In front of her.

Harry spoke up after a moment. "Er--… Hello, Miss…"

"Grangerrr--… La'fleur." She coughed loudly, turned around, and walked off the way she had came. They'd know the rumors were true now. They'd know who she was. They'd ask her questions.

Ron was suddenly on her left, Harry on her right, both following her. "We know who you are, Hermione," Ron said. "We never said anything about it, never owled you, because you have your own reasons for doing what you do."

She looked back and forth between the two of them in shock, mumbling to herself for a moment (all of which sounded like a chant of "no, no, no, no"). She sighed, finally speaking aloud, "How did—"

She was cut-off as Draco appeared in front of them, blocking the path; though no one intended to walk much further, even so. "It's your eyes, Granger," He stated. "Your eyes give it away. And there's only four people who were close enough to you to tell, so don't worry about it."

She had taken to staring at Draco now, having no idea what to say.

"Me, Ron," Harry said after a moment of silence, holding a hand up and ticking the names off on his fingers, "Ginny, and Draco."

To make a long story short, the two youngest Weasley's and Harry had made a truce with Draco when they found out he was a Death Eater spy for Dumbledore. Lucius, being the abusive, forceful father he was, had pushed Draco into being in alliance with Voldemort. However, behind his father's back, Draco had immediately asked Dumbledore if there was anything he could do to help the light, without raising suspicion among the other Death Eaters. The Headmaster had requested spying – Dumbledore never had to ask if Draco was going to be loyal, since the old wizard seemed to know so much from his student's and teacher's eyes. Draco had then gone under instruction of Snape, being a Death Eater spy for Dumbledore himself. However, Hermione never knew of Draco's being a Death Eater, or even a Death Eater spy…

But that is a story for another day, my friends.

"I see," Hermione mumbled after yet another moment of silence. "I can only ask you guys one thing…"

"Yes?" The three males said, at the same time.

"Just… please don't tell anyone," She said. Looking to Ron, she nodded. "And you, please make sure that Ginny tells no one."

"Why would I, Hermione?" A feminine voice suddenly spoke from behind Hermione. She turned around quickly, her eyes widening as she stared at Ginny. She then turned sharply and glared at Draco.

"You set this up, didn't you, dammit?" She asked coldly. Yes, she was glad to see her school friends after a good five years of not talking to them, but it was just… She didn't know, really. She was just mad at Draco for setting this up.

"Always knew you were a smart one, Hermione," Draco said calmly. "That was rather fast you caught on." He averted his eyes away, staring down the entrance to Knockturn Alley, which was right beside him. "There's something else you need to understand, but we'll save that for another day. Say good-bye to everyone, we've got a concert in three hours."

Her eyes widened as she looked down at her watch. Indeed, they only had three hours left before eight o'clock, the time of their concert.

With a quick good-bye, and a lecture of them needing to owl her at some time, her and Draco were off. Flooing back to the wizarding pub in Birmingham, the saw the bus still waiting for them outside and quickly boarded it.

With that, they were taken off to the arena they would be performing in later that night, dancing and singing, watching the fan go wild as they performed.

*

****

A/N: I know I messed around with a few things that I said would be explained. But, alas, this chapter fits better with the story. I'm sorry for those of you who are like, "huh?" It's just… things writers must do to make better the story. *coughs loudly* Also, if you read, review! They make me happy, and I update faster!

*Band- The band that plays the instruments is both Draco and Hermione's. Yes, it's strange. But, remember, Reakelle likes to cut money short. So she only hired one band for the two of them (also, the band hired is highly priced being some of the best instrumentalist in England. *nod*). The band travels around with them, only in their own bus, and they usually just go to the concerts and practice studios, as they have no point going anywhere with Draco and Hermione (and they're MUGGLES!)

That is enough to explain. And, sadly, at the rate this story is going, it may be over in the next few chapters. Not to worry, I'm really thinking about that sequel! And I've got a crying-sad ending for the story, too. Oh my cruelty.

Anyway, it's only a click and words away! Review, please.


	6. c Songs

Songs Used In Flambez La Fleur.  
  
^^; I think I should have posted this from the beginning. _ Anyway, here they are. And, I'm working on the chapter! :D Which means. my A/N was kind of pointless? o_o;  
  
Prologue: (Artist) Shimoli - (Song) Damned  
  
Chapter One: (Mentioned 'Hunter) (Artist) Dido - (Song) Hunter  
  
Chapter Two: (Artist) No Doubt - (Song) New  
  
Chapter Three: (None)  
  
Chapter Four: (Artist) Sugarcult - (Song) Pretty Girl (The Way) 


	7. REWRITE IN SESSION!

****

Notes from the Author:

Bah. I've decided to rewrite this story. It will probably have a new name, and a slightly modified plot. It also won't have the same words or anything. Same songs, only one or two.

Anyone who liked this story, I hope you'll like the rewritten version as well, maybe even more. I just don't feel any more 'flow' with this story. So, yeah, I felt a rewrite would be good. 'Learn from your mistakes,' really.

-LiBeTh

missedthetrain@hotmail.com

By the way, if anyone would like an e-mail for when the story is updated (reposted, and updated), then just leave you e-mail in the review!


End file.
